


No Longer Scared

by depthsofmysol



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Implied Torture, M/M, Superfamily, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depthsofmysol/pseuds/depthsofmysol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter used to enjoy watching the city at night, watching it fly by, as he swung from building to building. Now, he loathed it, hated it, for all that it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Longer Scared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arrafrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/gifts).



> My first (and probably last) foray into the Avengers fandom, as ArraFrost writes it so much better than I do. And sorry for the angst! I don't do fluff. xD But hopefully this will make this week better than last. <33

_Tick. Tock._

How long had he been missing? Had anyone even realized he was gone? Or did they just assume he was in his room, studying? Peter had meant to be studying, had meant to do just as his parents had asked. He had every intention of spending the night studying chemistry, or history, or whatever it was that was due the next day. But then – it just happened. One moment he was in his room, the next he was swinging out the window, and out into the city. He'd never been able to just ignore the feelings that came when someone was in trouble. Not even when his parents had asked him, almost pleaded with him, to just stay in tonight, to just ignore the one thing that made him _him_. 

He wished he had. Ignored the feelings. The night was cold, and sitting atop some building, the cross-wind making his already chilled body go numb. Peter used to enjoy watching the city at night, watching it fly by, as he swung from building to building. Now, he loathed it, hated it, for all that it was. The city had lured him out, been used as a trap, and he had inadvertently sprung it. It hadn't been meant for him. It was for his parents, and the rest of the Avengers. But they'd told him he would make a much better lure, better than anything they could have ever imagined. And now, he understood why his parents had begged him, even if not in so many words, not to leave the tower.

No regrets, though. No matter what his parents had said, Peter knew he would have left the tower, left to help someone in need. That was what he was, _who_ he was, when he wasn't Peter Parker, son of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. He'd learnt from the best, after all. And he wouldn't regret leaving the towers. Even if it ended up with him as bait. There would be no regrets. Not tonight. Not ever.

_Tick. Tock._

Explosions. They were near. He could almost _feel_ the reverberations in the air. Had he passed out again? Or maybe he'd fallen asleep. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He was cold, and so tired. Sleep continually battled with consciousness. He was also weak. Peter remembered their warnings, what they would do if he tried to escape. Were they stupid? Did they think he wouldn't at least try? He wasn't the type to sit around, and wait. Now – now, he knew they meant every single word. It hurt to breathe, to move, to _think_. He could feel the blood drying along his chest, his stomach, his arms. Could feel it still seeping out of the wounds in his side and legs. They'd told him what would happen. Now, he knew.

The explosions, though. Were they getting closer? Or further away? The sounds echoing off of the buildings made it difficult to tell. They could have been further off than he thought. Or, they could be closer. In his state, he was lucky to even keep his eyes open. Pain, sleep, cold. All kept demanding he give in to their needs. All kept demanding he comply. Peter couldn't. He _needed_ to stay awake, needed to be aware, in case his parents came looking for him. _If_ they came. He wasn't the type to need their help, wasn't the type to get into situations where he needed someone else’s help. Any situation he found himself in, he could easily get himself out of. But not this one. Not one that hadn't been meant for him.

More explosions. It was like they were taunting him, begging him to stay and watch with the rest of the city. He knew what it all meant. They were close. The last round he could _feel_ in his body. Peter knew it should have made him happy, relieved to know that they were so close. And yet, they were also so far away. The building they'd stashed him on, just happened to have a storage type shed. And they'd made certain he couldn't be easily seen. JARVIS could find him. _If_ they knew he was missing, _if_ they knew he was there.

_Tick. Tock._

It was quiet. Eerily quiet. He didn't know what woke him up. Just that he found himself struggling to breathe. And in turn, been dragged from the darkness that had enveloped him. It had been so warm. In the darkness. Now, it was cold, and he hurt, and he was so very tired. Why? Why was he enduring all of this? He was scared. That's why. Peter knew the feeling. The last time he was this scared, he'd been a child, and the city had been enveloped in a nasty thunderstorm. He loved them now, but as a child, they terrified him. This was the same feeling. He didn't want to die. But he was scared. Scared that he knew his own body was slowly giving out on him. Scared that no one would find him. Scared that his own family had no idea where he was. Or what had happened to him.

"Peter?"

"Dad."

Just saying the one word hurt. He was certain his own voice betrayed him. Just like his own body. But they found him. They'd found his broken, and battered body. Peter knew he was safe, now. Hearing his name, even in the scared, worried tone that his father used, he knew he was safe. That the worst was over. That the storm had finally passed. Whatever happened next, didn't matter. His _father_ had found him.

"Cold. Tired. Hurt."

"Shh. It's okay. Just stay with us."

"Pop?"

Two _distinct_ voices. That was what he heard. Both of his fathers were there. Now, the storm was truly over. As a child, it had always taken both of them, before he could go back to sleep. With them there, maybe it was okay to not be scared. Peter could hear the desperation in their voices, the way they commanded things to be at their disposal. But he wasn't scared. They were there, with him. And he wasn't scared. Maybe they would make everything better. Just like when he had been a child.

Maybe… 

_Tick._

Maybe death wasn't quite so scary after all.


End file.
